Only the Good Die Young
by falafel-fiction
Summary: A lament and tribute to Charlie Pace. Narration by Rose.


**Only the Good Die Young**

**Summary:** A lament and tribute to Charlie Pace. Narration by Rose.

**Characters:** Rose and Charlie.

**Author's Notes: **I've been writing this piece very slowly over the last month filling it with my most heartfelt reflections on my sadly departed favourite Lost character. This story is dedicated to Charlie and everything that we loved so dearly about him. Many thanks to **pacejunkie** for her editing tips.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lost.

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Charlie always had the feeling there was something trying to kill him.

I tell you, it was just his luck that he was up out of his seat and shut in the bathroom when our plane went down. Don't even ask me how he survived that one. I didn't see a scratch on him. I had to get my old heart started up again by the doctor. Once I had my senses back I found a quiet patch of sand to cry over my wedding ring and worry over my husband. That was until this scruffy English boy came stumbling over, his hands twitching and his eyes as round as saucers.

"_That…that thing! That HUGE flaming piece of metal! It…it landed right behind me! It could've bloody killed me! I was almost KILLED!!" _

The boy spun around in a circle, his eyes all bugged out, as though he was expecting more hunks of fiery debris to fall from the sky and crush him. I considered pointing out to him that allof us were nearly killed. Some poor souls _had _been killed. But I could see that he was young and that is the way that young people are, so wrapped up in themselves, thinking all the troubles of the world revolve around them. Especially young people on drugs and I could see right away this kid was high. I guessed that was what he was doing in the bathroom.

To be honest I wanted nothing to do with the strung out little fool at first. Then he noticed that I was crying. All of a sudden I had him fussing and fawning over me, his face all pinched up with sweet concern.

"_Are…are you okay, missus? Do you want me to help you? I could fetch you some water. I'm Charlie by the way. Is…is that your wedding ring? Was your husband on the plane? Can't you find him? I could go and look for him if you like. Tell me your husband's name and I'll go find him…" _

That was enough to warm me to him. You could see a caring soul peeping through the haze of those drugs he was taking. But at the time I just wanted my husband, not this jittery kid buzzing around me like a fly.

"_Honey, why don't you just sit down, before you fall down…"_

Charlie did as he was told. He went and sat on his own in the sand, rocking himself back and forth, until Sayid took pity on him and asked him to help with the signal fire. That was how it was with Charlie in those first few days. He reminded me of Bernard in the way he could never keep still. Most people considered Charlie to be something of a nuisance. He was just this ball of nervous energy with no release. No release apart from that little bag of powder in his pocket.

It wasn't long before Charlie had to quit cold turkey. He covered it well, but I knew the signs. Strangely enough he seemed to grow stronger through his struggles. It was good to see him stepping out from that cloud he had been under. It was like he had been reborn and given a new lease on life.

Then a few days later…someone really did try to kill Charlie.

I remember speaking with Ethan a couple times. He had a pleasant enough manner, but I always sensed that there was something wrong about him. I never could put my finger on it, but the man left me cold…gave me little shivers up and down my spine. When we heard that he had kidnapped Charlie and Claire, it damned near broke my heart. I had been watching those two kids flirting with each other and it had put a smile on my face seeing how sweet they looked together. No Lord, I didn't like to think what had become of those poor lambs…

When the doctor brought Charlie back it was like the soul had been knocked out of his body. Charlie was just this fragile little shell, sitting there so pale and still. Nobody was comfortable being around him. They didn't like looking too long at that ugly rope burn around his neck. At first he wouldn't say a word. Then when he started talking, nobody liked what he was saying. There were people in the jungle, Charlie said, people that were trying to kill us. Well, nobody wanted to hear that. They had enough troubles without having to think about _those_ _people_ and what they had done to Charlie and how they had taken Claire.

That week, Jack mostly kept Charlie by his side like a wounded animal that he was nursing back to health. He would dose him up with painkillers, tell him when to eat, drink or lie down. Ah Jack…he means well, but he has this tendency to administer to your body while neglecting your soul. I knew Charlie wouldn't be healed until he had help of a different kind. So one day when Jack was taking care of business elsewhere and we were all moving the camp down the beach, I went over and told Charlie to get his butt off the sand. I told him straight he needed to ask for help. He hadn't told me about his beliefs, but sometimes you can just sense it in people. I knew his faith had been shattered. It's a feeling I know only too well.

Sure enough that evening Charlie came over to sit beside me. All of a sudden there were tears welling in his eyes and his face was showing the grief that he had been feeling all week, but had masked behind blankness and numbness. Now the boy was sobbing his heart out and asking me to help him.

"_Baby…I'm not the one who can help you…" _

I took Charlie's hand and I prayed for him to find peace. He closed his eyes, bowed his head and whispered his own prayer. I didn't hear it, but I sensed that he was praying for the lost pregnant girl rather than himself.

After our prayers we got to talking about our lives before the crash. I learned that Charlie had lost his mother when he was just a child. It seemed that she wasn't content with her blue-collar life, her bad-tempered husband and her pestering kids, so she chose to swallow down a whole bottle of tranquilizers one day. Charlie was the one who found her when he came back from school. Doesn't sound like he ever got over it. He said that he could have saved her if only he had come home sooner…if he hadn't stayed after classes to practise his music. I told him he wasn't to blame for his mother's death or what happened to Claire, but he wouldn't listen. He just kept on burdening himself with the shame of having failed them.

I tried to offer Charlie a little perspective then by telling him about my daughter who had passed away. I don't even like talking about that. Certainly not to someone that I had only known for two weeks. But the boy needed to wake up to the reality that he wasn't alone in his pain and loss. I told him my daughter would have been around his age now if she had lived. That's when Charlie hushed and sucked up his tears. He looked at me with an honest compassion in his eyes.

"_I'm sorry…I'm sorry about your daughter…" _

"_Well honey, you know that's not your fault either."_

Claire came back to us the following week. I don't know what had been done to that poor girl, but it had been terrible enough to put her in a fit of amnesia. She didn't even remember Charlie or all the sweet things he had done for her. That didn't scare him away though. I think he just fell deeper in love. They tell me Charlie shot that Ethan feller when he tried to take her again. I was shocked at first, because I wouldn't have had him down as a killer. But I guess that Charlie was prepared to darken his own soul to protect the innocence and light he saw in her.

Claire's child came not too long afterwards. I tell you, that baby breathed new life into Charlie in a way the doctor could not. I never saw anyone look so happy with a little gurgling bundle in their arms. Charlie loved that kid like it was his own from the day of his birth. For a moment, I thought my prayers had been answered and Charlie had finally been granted his peace.

Sadly this was not the case. No Lord, far from it. You see, not so long after Claire came back, the drugs came back too. I can understand Claire kicking him to the curb when she discovered what Charlie had been hiding from her in that statue. The little one was her priority, so she had to consider what was best for him. Junkies and babies ain't a good mix, though Charlie most definitely didn't mean any harm. He was still carrying that raised scar on his forehead which was a mark of his love for them. I knew that he was going to take it hard. Other addicts in recovery might have rehab and therapy. Claire and Aaron were the only methadone Charlie had.

Charlie was just one of those types that can't stomach loneliness. He always needed somebody to latch onto. He took his relationships to heart and he would cling to them till the bitter end. When given the chance to dote upon his friends and loved ones Charlie was all sweetness and sunshine. The boy could brighten up your day with his quick humour and his thoughtful gestures. But when Charlie was spurned and sent away he would turn into a bubbling pot of resentment. After Claire packed his bags for him, I was holding my breath just waiting for him to boil over.

Sure enough a few days later Charlie was outside Claire's tent ranting and raving about religious visions. I'll admit that I had been quietly hoping someone would think to baptise that poor island child, but it wasn't Charlie's business to be forcing his faith on anyone who didn't share it. That evening he started a fire and took Claire's baby without permission thinking he could baptise the kid himself. It didn't take long for him to draw a crowd. When it started to get ugly I went to find Sayid thinking he could break it up. By the time we returned Claire had her baby back in her arms and Locke had knocked ten bells out of Charlie.

Nobody went to sleep that night. Everyone stood around in little clusters to gossip about what had happened. They were all muttering that Charlie was on drugs again, that Charlie was a religious nut, that Charlie had some sick obsession with Claire and her child. They were all asking what Jack was planning to do about it. I was wondering why these people were all muttering about Charlie amongst themselves when they could just wander over and ask him what was wrong. I decided to go over and do just that when Bernard called me back.

"_Where are you going, Rose? Don't go near that boy! He's not in his right mind. He's been snorting those drugs they found on the plane. He's dangerous!" _

Well, I had to take another look at Charlie at that point. I had to be sure Bernard and I were talking about the same person. Charlie was sitting alone at the end of the beach, shivering in his wet clothes and clutching his bloody cheek; quite the sorriest looking creature you ever saw. These people who Charlie had thought were his friends had surrounded him like a pack of wolves and watched him beaten into the waves while he was just bawling his eyes out, saying he was sorry and he just wanted to save that baby he loves so damned much.

You know, Charlie ain't the only one to give way to a fit of hysterics on this island, but he suffered the most for his moment of weakness. Everybody took the chance to judge and condescend over him, because it made them feel so righteous and superior in themselves. That's people for you.

"_Oh hush, Bernard. I've skinned boars bigger than he is and the pigs had more fight in them. I believe I'll be just fine."_

Charlie wouldn't even glance at me as I approached. He looked much the same as he had done after Ethan strung him up in that tree, staring out over the ocean with a wounded look in his eyes. His body was hurting, his soul hurt worse and he had lost his Claire. Only this time there were no savages in the jungle who were to blame for it. Charlie had brought this pain on himself.

"_Well Charlie…I can't say I know whether you were trying to baptise the baby or crucify yourself just now…but I can sense you're crying for help again. When are you gonna learn to ask for help, son?"_

His head whipped back and he hissed through his teeth. There was a viciousness in his face that I hadn't seen before. That's just what drugs can do to a person. They breed monsters in the kindest of hearts.

"_Leave me alone, you old biddy! Don't tell me to pray to God. I'm sick of it. God hates me! He's trying to KILL me!"_

I had to back away from Charlie then. There was no reasoning with him when he was in that state. The boy was ready to explode and anybody who stood near him was only going to get hit by the shrapnel. I just hoped that he would simmer down and come to his senses before it was too late. The next morning I asked the doctor to take a break from his hatch duties and stitch the new cut on Charlie's face. I told him not to forget how Charlie had saved him from that cave in.

The next week I was surprised to find that Charlie had taken to helping Eko with the building of his church. It looked like Charlie was willing to give his God and himself another chance. He was also helping Sayid with the construction of our kitchen table. When everybody started eating off it I suggested that they might at least start talking to Charlie again. Slowly they did start talking to him and they remembered he was actually very pleasant company.

Then there was the day the sky turned purple. I tell you for a moment I thought God and heaven had come crashing down upon us. But it only lasted for a minute. Not long after Bernard found Charlie stumbling out of the jungle. It seemed like he had been caught up the hatch when it all happened. We couldn't get much sense out of him. He had a concussion and one of his ears was bleeding. We were going to take him over to our tent and get him to sit down when Claire came over, took Charlie by the hand and told us that she would take care of him.

Over the following days Charlie gradually began moving his things back to Claire's tent. She seemed to have forgiven Charlie and he appeared to have made a change for the better. This change was confirmed to me one day when Locke passed me by on the beach and whispered into my ear.

"_The statues are gone, Rose…he threw them in the ocean…"_

"_I told you that he would snap out of it, John. You didn't have to throw your fists. He just needed time to let go..." _

I must say I was glad to see the family back together again. I think everyone was. When Charlie, Claire and the little one were together they just seemed to glow with a warmth and sweetness that cheered all our hearts. But there was still this worrisome air of vulnerability about them. There was something telling you that their radiance was only a fleeting thing. Like a whisper of sunshine before a storm comes. Somehow you just knew that one day the gates of their little Eden would slam closed and their paradise would turn to dust. It's a cruel world.

It was Desmond who saw it coming. I felt in my gut there was something strange about that Scotsman who had come out of the hatch. He looked like the very image of our Lord Jesus Christ. His eyes seemed to see deeper than everyone elses and when he looked at Charlie it was like he was watching him bleed to death right there in front of him. All of a sudden Desmond was pulling Charlie aside for all these hushed private talks. I wondered what was going on between them, but I was sick to my stomach thinking it probably wasn't anything good.

It wasn't long before I learned their terrible little secret. Hugo wasn't so discreet as Desmond. That boy never learned to keep his trap shut or his voice down. I overheard him talking to Charlie one morning in the kitchen while they were chopping up fruit and I was hanging out my laundry.

"_Charlie, dude, I think you're totally gonna be okay. It's been like a week now since Desmond had one of his flashy visions, right? Plus, I don't even think that bird thing counts. I mean if Desmond hadn't scared the birds away from Jin's nets, you wouldn't have been climbing over slippery rocks in the first place, right? Desmond just needs to get his head straight. You ain't dying, Charlie. I say we broke the curse when we got the van started. Deaths got nothing on you, man…" _

It would seem that Desmond was a prophet of some kind. A messenger come to tell Charlie that the Lord Almighty truly was making plans for his destruction like Charlie always suspected. For the first time in years I felt angry with my God. I was scowling up at the skies and asking what was the meaning of all this. Was my God making a mockery out of me? I was the one who always encouraged Charlie to ask his God for help in times of trouble. The boy had been praying and repenting. He had been building up a church in his honour. He had been looking to God for grace and mercy. And now the Good Lord in his wisdom was doing all he could to strike him down. It made me want to burn all my crosses.

Nothing came of Desmond's prophecy for a while. I got to thinking that maybe Charlie had been spared or his Scottish friend had saved him. Then in the middle of all this hullabaloo about the parachutist woman and the Others coming to take our pregnant women, Charlie was volunteering to swim down to one of those Dharma stations to flip a switch and get us rescued. My first thought was _why_. Why would Charlie want to do a crazy reckless thing like that with all these morbid visions hanging over him? Just what was the boy thinking? Then I saw Desmond looking at Charlie with a wondering awe like he had just sprouted wings. It was all to apparent what was happening. Charlie wasn't thinking about himself at all. He was thinking about that sweet girl and her innocent baby.

I always knew that Charlie would die for them if it came down to it. I remembered one day not long after our crash, Charlie and Claire were hanging clothes on a line and talking the afternoon away. At one point they stopped and shook hands. They were making a bargain. I never found out what it was. But thinking back their relationship has always been a bargain of sorts. It was Charlie who made the terms. His life for her protection. I don't think that Claire quite realised what she was getting into when she took up with him. I wonder if she will ever know what a saviour she has been for that boy's soul.

I had to escape to my tent and shed a few quiet tears. Charlie was sacrificing his own life so his friends could be saved. I took inspiration and solace from that, because this rescue would be the death of me too. So be it. When those helicopters came to fly us from this island I would take back my illness and let my life wind down. I wouldn't be sabotaging any more rescues. Maybe I could justify myself when everything was peaceful at our little beach community. But now those people were coming, those people out of the jungle that Charlie warned us about all those weeks ago. Now there were babies, pregnant women and simple folk who needed to be saved. I couldn't stand in the way of that. If a boy in his twenties could face up to what had to be done then an old thing like me had no business feeling sorry for myself. At least I knew I would be in good company in the hereafter.

Still it bothered me that nobody even seemed aware of what Charlie was doing for them. I wondered if they were all blinding themselves to the fact, preoccupied with their own fears. I went to discuss the matter with Sayid, a little surprised that he and Jack were allowing Charlie to take this dangerous mission.

"_Someone has to do it, Rose. I volunteered to swim down to the station myself. But Charlie is the more capable of success in this venture. He tells us that he was a swimming champion in his youth." _

"_Swimming champion, huh? Well ain't he a dark horse. But you know, Sayid, I don't think I've ever seen Charlie do more than paddle in that ocean. Are you sure he was being entirely honest with you?"_

Sayid shot me a dark solemn look then. I could see it in his eyes that he wasn't expecting to survive his own mission shooting the dynamite at the beach. What made it worse was he had to find two more men to do it with him. I knew that Sayid didn't like sending Charlie one bit, but this was what it had come to…someone had to do it. Some had to die so others could be saved.

"_Whether it's true or not…Charlie is still capable."_

I smiled at that, thinking Charlie must be proud to have earned their respect, even with all it was costing him. My thoughts for him were interrupted when Bernard came marching over to impress Sayid with his target skills. That man picks the worst times to play the hero. Unable to convince my stubborn noble husband to lessen my worries I ordered him to our tent to change his clothes.

While I was waiting for Bernard, I caught sight of Charlie. He was standing over by the kitchen, stroking his fingers over the table he built. His eyes were passing slowly over the camp, taking one long look at the place he had called home for the last three months. I watched him stealing little glances at the faces of the people he had come to know. He looked to each one of them in turn, his mouth twitching into smiles as if he were remembering something that he liked about them. They were all too busy with their packing to notice him. When Charlie had finished this private farewell he still lingered, seeming not quite ready to leave and maybe looking for an excuse not to. In the end he sighed and started walking away.

"_Baby, where are you sneaking off to without even saying goodbye to me?"_

Charlie startled and blushed as though I had caught him with his pants down. Then just as quickly he covered his fear with a smile.

"_Rose! I'm sorry, Rose. I forgot. I've had things to do. There's no time. No time left anymore, Rose. I'm sorry. I've got to be going to the Looking Glass. I've got a big underwater swim to pull off. Better go now before I lose my nerve. Desmond will be waiting for me. I've gotta go and…"_

"_I know where you're going, Charlie Pace…don't you walk away thinking I don't know where you're going…"_

He looked nervous then. Worried perhaps that I was going to lecture him or ask him to pray. But I knew words were of little comfort to him now. So I simply pulled him close, wrapping my arms around those slender shoulders. I held him like I imagined his mother would hold him. Like I would have held my own daughter if I'd had the chance to say goodbye before she was taken from me.

"_Bless you, child…I'll be seeing you real soon…" _

I felt him nod against my shoulder. Then he slipped through my arms and made his way to the boat where Desmond was waiting. My heart clenched as I thought that this would be my last glimpse of Charlie on this earth. Then at the last moment he turned and waved. Not just to me, but to the whole camp, like a rockstar waving to his fans at the end of a concert. Only nobody else saw him doing it. And with that he had me smiling and shaking my head once again.

I just wouldn't believe that God hated this boy. I hoped that in his mysterious way God was still trying to help Charlie. Helping him to express his love and make his peace and then taking away all his pain. His big bruised heart was so swollen up with emotion it must have been fit to burst. Some souls are just too sensitive for this world. In the end after all he has been put through I hope Charlie will forgive his God for being so impatient to bear him up to heaven…


End file.
